


Ornate Gifts

by WizardSandwich



Series: Knife Fic 'Verse [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Idiots in Love, Knives, M/M, Multi, courting, drift is Dumb, this is a dumb self-indulgent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-03-13 06:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18935332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich
Summary: Courting is hard, especially when your intended is a coward and all you have is knives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a dumb fic that's more for me than anyone

No one expects Krok to slam onto the bridge like a mech on mission.

He doesn’t bother waiting for anyone else to speak, to question why he’s there. He just holds something up like he expects one of them to recognize it. “Alright,” he says, concern and anger written with his optics, authority in his voice, “which of you fraggers left this outside of Fulcrum’s door?”

His gaze darts to the item in his servo like it has offended him. Knowing him, it has. He has always been fiercely protective of his Scavengers.

It takes a long moment for anyone to recognize the item, but eventually Drift raises his servo sheepishly.

“Are you threatening him?” Krok demands, jumping to an inevitable conclusion.

Really, he knows he should have seen it coming. Fulcrum was a K-Class and some bots would hate him for his frame type alone. Krok had just never expected it to be Drift.

“What? No!” Drift scrabbles for an explanation that doesn’t sound stupid and cringes. He doesn’t have one.

“Well then why?” Krok narrows his optics, waiting for an explanation of some sort.

Drift shifts awkwardly for a moment. The whole bridge is looking at him. He counts himself lucky that it’s just the command staff. He sighs, clears his throat, and says, “I—we—Ratchet and I want to court him.”

Krok looks at Drift like he is the biggest idiot he has ever seen, which is saying a lot considering who was under Krok’s command. “You want to court him.” Krok returns.

His voice is flat and it makes Drift shrink a bit more. “Yes,” he says. “In the Circle of Light it was traditional to give the object of your affections a weapon with which they could protect themselves.”

“He’s a coward! He was arrested for cowardice! Just when I think you Autobots can’t be dumber than my crew—” Krok curses. “Fulcrum is the bravest coward I’ve ever met, but you can’t just leave a knife outside his door and expect him not to assume it’s a threat.”

Drift sighs, “Maybe I should have taken that into account.”

Krok shakes his helm, sighs, “You should have.”

Krok walks over to him and drops the knife in his servos, “If you really want to court him, think of something better. Something that won’t work him into a panic.”

He leaves the bridge and Drift sheepishly holding the knife in his servos without another word. The rest of the command staff is staring at Drift like he’s grown a second helm.

Rodimus eventually walks over to his side, examining the knife. It’s a beautiful and ornate gold that shines in the light. He isn’t exactly sure how Fulcurm mistook it for a threat or how Krok did, for that matter.

Another long moment passes before he breaks the silence with, “So, Fulcrum, huh? Didn’t know you and Ratchet had it in you.”

Drift grumbles and elbows him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sure this is up to standard but
> 
> find me at @tasteful-robot-loving on tumblr!

When his shift ends, Drift immediately returns to his and Ratchet’s shared hab. Ratchet, he knows, is off shift. He finds him exactly as he expected, sitting on their berth and reading an old Cybertronian novel. He barely looks up when Drift enters. He greets him with a simple, “Hey.”

“So,” Drift starts, not bothering to dance around the fact, “I may have screwed up.”

Ratchet looks up, expression questioning but expecting the worst, “What did you screw up?”

“I gave Fulcrum a knife. Krok said he thought it was a threat,” Drift admits. His servos come together to fidget and he rocks back on his heels.

Ratchet blinks, opens his mouth, then gives him a flat look. “Drift, when I told you I’d let you take charge, that’s not what I meant. Where did you get the idea that giving Fulcrum a knife was a good idea?” Ratchet sighs tiredly.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking,” Drift says. “The Circle of Light did it—and I didn’t think that Fulcrum would have such a negative reaction to it…” he trails of hesitantly before offering a hesitant and apologetic smile.

Understanding crosses Ratchet’s face, “You went with what you knew worked.”

“I went with what I knew worked,” Drift confirms, lines of tension leaving his frame. He’s relieved that Ratchet _gets it._

“We’ll have to fix this,” Ratchet says, “with Fulcrum. But you did what you thought was best.”

“Yeah,” Drift replies.

He smiles tentatively at Ratchet and the mech opens his arms, inviting him into his warmth. Drift crawls into his arms without hesitation, smiling up at his sparkmate. “I love you,” he murmurs up at him.

His servos trace over the lines of Ratchet’s forearms in affection. Ratchet grins back down at him, says, “I love you too,” before catching Drift in a sweet kiss that makes Drift feel like putty.


End file.
